Obsession
by FreeRen
Summary: Liz has a strange obsession....


Author:  Lauren

Email:  lcoffman@cbfoothill.com  or LCoffman21@aol.com

Rating:  R – because I really like using bad words! ;)

Pairing:  Mi/L – is there anything else??

Legal:  I don't own Roswell, the poem below belongs solely to the author.  I don't have any money so don't bother suing me.

Summary:  Based off a challenge by JadaLyn to write a story based on the following poem by M. Estep.  Feedback, as always, is appreciated and sought after.

_The stupid jerk I'm obsessed with  
stands so close to me  
I can feel his breath  
on my neck  
and smell  
the way he would smell  
if we slept together  
because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with  
and that is his primary function in life  
to be a stupid jerk I can obsess over  
and to talk to that dingy bimbette blonde   
as if he really wanted to hear about her  
manicures and  
pedicures and  
New Age ritualistic enema cures and  
truth be known, he probably does wanna hear about it  
because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with  
and he's obsessed with doing anything he can  
to lend fuel to my fire  
he makes a point of standing  
looking over my shoulder   
when I'm talking to the guy who adores me  
and would bark like a dog  
and wave to strangers  
if I asked him to bark like a dog  
and wave to strangers  
but I can't ask him to bark like a dog  
or impersonate any kind of animal at all  
cause I'm too busy  
looking at the way the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with  
has pants on that perfectly define his well-shaped ass  
to the point where I'm thoroughly frantic  
I'm just gonna go home   
and stick my head in the oven  
overdose on nutmeg and aspirin  
and sit in the bathtub reading The Executioner's Song  
and being completely confounded by the fact  
that I can see  
the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with's face  
defining itself in the peeling plaster of the wall  
grinning and winking  
and I start to yell,  
Get the hell out of there  
You're just a figment of my imagination  
Just get a life and get out of my plaster  
and pass me the next painful situation please  
but he just keeps on  
grinning and winking  
he's the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with  
and he's mine  
in my plaster  
And frankly, I couldn't be happier.  [/i]_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Liz!  Are you planning on working or are you just going to sit there and glare at me?"  Michael asked as he poked his head out of the kitchen window and stared at me while I sat on the employee couch, reading my novel in peace.

Maybe, just maybe, if I completely ignore him… he'll go away.  Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead" should be completely engrossing; at least it usually is when pain in the ass Michael isn't harassing me constantly.

"Lizzzzzzzzzzzzzz."  

I jumped slightly from my seated position on the couch, Michael's sudden appearance over my shoulder momentarily distracting me from my reading.

"Go away, Michael."  I hissed, trying not to be distracted by his soft breath tickling my neck and his large hand on my shoulder, his fingers tracing circles.  My mind flashed to a vision of us slowly making love on my bed.  "I need to read this for my AP English class.  Why don't you clean the grill or something."

"Sure thing.  I'll find something else to do."  He chuckled as he walked out of the break room and I couldn't help but notice the way his jeans clung to his hips as he left.

Shaking my head, clearing all thoughts of his hips out of my mind, I tried to concentrate on "The Fountainhead."  Unfortunately, I was only able to flip through one page before Michael Guerin entered into my mind again.

"I'll find something else to do…"  I mimicked under my breath.  I could hear the goddamned smirk in his voice as he walked away.  Honestly, Michael Guerin is an ass.  He's so infuriating, arrogant, egotistical ……..  Arrgh!  I sometimes wonder why I ever even bother with him.  Get a clue, Parker.  He's just that pain in the ass you're obsessing over since... 

…he returned my journal and told me that I was another reason he envied Max Evans…

…he grabbed me a warm hug when Max was captured by the FBI…

…he grabbed me the hallway of the school and kissed me…

Oh yeah.  That wasn't even him.  Well, not *technically.*

What a stupid jerk!

Curling my legs underneath me on the couch, I firmly resolved myself to read at least one chapter of "The Fountainhead"  sans Michael Guerin thoughts.  Seriously.  I had to start reading this now, or else I wouldn't be two chapters ahead of the class anymore.  Michael Guerin or not, I had to read this damned chapter…

"Oh…  Thank you Michael!  Yeah, it's a new scent from this shop my mom loves.  Hey, I was thinking… there is this new age convention going on in Las Cruses this weekend.  We should totally go!"  Maria's voice suddenly floated into the break room.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I had bounded out into the Crashdown to see what was going on.  "The Fountainhead" was completely forgotten as I watched Maria animatedly flirt with Michael.  Her back was to me and Michael's hazel eyes connected with mine as he casually leaned against the countertop.  My teeth gritted together as I watched him seemingly listen to Maria babble on and on about absolutely nothing and to top it all off – that jerk had the utter gall to wink at me while she continued on and on.

I hate him.  I hate him!

Seriously!

Before I could stomp out there and tell Michael exactly what I utterly despised about him, I noticed Max wander through the front door, his doe eyes looking eerily reminiscent of bambi's mom.  

You want to play, you stupid jerk?  Oh yeah, we can play.

Ducking back inside the employee break room, I figured that if that stupid jerk I was obsessed with wanted to play dirty, I could play even dirtier.  I quickly pulled my hair tie from my hair and let my hair fall down casually around my shoulders.  My hair framed my face nicely and I took a moment to tug my blue tank top down, just a bit, so that you could see the rounded curves of my breasts if you looked long enough. 

As I walked out to into the Crashdown, I walked straight past Michael and Maria, (who was still talking about absolutely nothing) and headed for Max.  I could feel Michael's eyes boring holes into my back as I neared Max.  He was seated at his usual table, wearing his typical sweater and smiled at me as I sat down across from him.

"Hi Liz."  He practically whispered.

"Hi Max."  I grinned at him as I put one elbow on the table and placed my chin into the palm of my hand.  "How are you today?  Are you ready for that quiz in AP Chemistry Monday?"

"I think so.  Do you need any help?  I could make a copy of my notes and lend them to you.  If you want, you could keep them, or we can set up a study date…"  

Trying valiantly not to roll my eyes at his over eagerness, I shook my head.  Max Evans would probably dye his hair bright pink and wear rainbow colored t-shirts everyday if I told him I thought it was hot.  He's trying to so hard to make up for the fact that he "accidentally" banged that alien slut, that if I wanted to, I could probably make him bark like a dog on command.  He'll never know that I could hardly care less if he banged Tess or the whole West Roswell High Cheerleading Squad, because of my loathsome obsession over one Michael Guerin.

Who, by the way, was looking unbelievably sexy in those jeans today… 

…I didn't just think that.  Really.

What I meant, was… he's that obscenely arrogant jerk that I've been obsessing over for years now.

"Liz?"  Max suddenly called out, snapping me out of my Michael induced trance.

"Umm.  Huh?"

"I asked if you wanted to go out to a …  Oh, hey Michael."  Max grumbled as he saw Michael approach from behind me.

I tried to casually look over my right shoulder and give him a dirty look, but he only smirked and winked at me as he stood directly behind me.  He was close enough that I could smell his cologne.

"Maxwell."  He said in a low voice as he looked at Max and then his eyes flickered over to me and I could see that he was barely repressing the smirk that played on his lips.  "Parker.  Busy discussing school again?  I hate to break it to you, but your one grade on a fucking quiz isn't going to mean jack shit when you look at the whole picture."

"Fuck off, Michael.  You're giving me a headache."  I growled as his cologne was starting to distract me and turned to give him one of my meanest glares.

Michael laughed.  "You're in a mood today.  Good Luck with her Maxwell.  In fact, Parker, you should probably just go up to your room so that bad mood doesn't spread around."  He sauntered off and I tried to keep my eyes off his perfectly rounded ass as he walked away.

I sighed.  I should stop obsessing over this stupid jerk.  He's only making my life a living hell.  "You know what Max?  I should probably go and lie down.  This headache is killing me."  I gave him a half smile.  "Maybe we'll get together at school and compare notes or something."

Max looked wounded that I was leaving.  "But, Liz… I could just heal your headache for you!?"  He told me and started to stretch out his hand towards me.

"No no.  Max, we're in a public place!  I'll just go and take some Tylenol and lie down."  I fled from the table and up the stairs to the peacefulness of my room.  I flung myself down on my bed and stared at the white plaster on the ceiling and contemplated life.  

Max wanted to heal me, give me a break.  Like, I need Max poking around inside my head trying to heal me and figure out why I didn't like him anymore.  Then, he would find my secret obsession with Michael Guerin.

I need that just like I need to be shot again.

Maybe… if I just smash my head in the Crashdown's double cooker ovens, I could put myself of out this misery.  I can't take this constant tourture of obsessing over Michael to the point of insanity.

Maybe…  if I just take a bath, I could make the misery of this day go away.  Maybe if I take enough baths, I could get over one Michael Guerin.

I could even see his winking, smirking face as I stared intently at my plaster wall.  I could even hear his husky voice, laughing at me.  I closed my eyes and screamed in frustration.  "You stupid jerk!  Get the hell out of here!"

Even with my eyes closed, I could still see his face, winking and smirking.

You know, I really must be losing my mind, because I could even smell his cologne.  

"Liz."

I would have jumped off the bed, but the moment, my eyes flew open, I could only see Michael's smirking face as he lowered his lips to mine.

He may be a stupid jerk.  

I'm completely obsessed with him.

But at least, he's MY stupid jerk.


End file.
